


Stand in Line

by anr



Series: Just a Little Late + Stand in Line [2]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2019-04-14 22:43:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14146206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anr/pseuds/anr
Summary: His best move right now would probably be tostop talkingbut ever since he gave up an uninterrupted six hours of sleep a night, his willpower's been all but shot to hell.





	Stand in Line

**Author's Note:**

> Timeline: post-series. Unofficial sequel to [Just a Little Late](https://archiveofourown.org/works/561932).
> 
> Beta: IIRC, mylittleredgirl did originally.
> 
> Notes: Cleaning out my harddrive of old ficlets. This was originally the 5th "time" in [Beats out of Time](https://archiveofourown.org/works/562529) but, obviously, got replaced. Enjoy! 
> 
> Warning: Probably the fluffiest Sparky I ever wrote.

  


* * *

  


_"Attention Walmart shoppers -- could a Mr John Sheppard please come to the courtesy desk. Mr John Sheppard, please come to the courtesy desk. Thank you."_

Looking up, he glances around. "Did you hear that?"

The woman standing beside him glances back. "Hear what?"

"That announcement -- did they say 'John Sheppard'?"

She shrugs. "I wasn't listening. Sorry."

"Thanks anyway." Dumping his selections back onto the nearest shelf, he digs into the bag slung over his shoulder for his cell phone, feeling everything but brush against his fingers. "Damn."

Backtracking, he heads out of the aisle, mentally running through all the possible reasons that could have caused someone to track him down -- in a _Walmart_ of all places -- as he makes his way to the front of the store. He figures 'end of the world' and 'alien invasion' are probably tied for worst case scenario; winning some unknown random door prize the best case. "Only wish the odds were more for the door prize," he says under his breath.

Clearing the checkouts, he moves to the courtesy desk, trying to catch the eye of the clerk behind it. "Excuse me, I think you just --"

"John!"

Turning, he watches Elizabeth approach from the courtesy chairs off to the side. His anxiety spikes. "What is it? Are you okay? Did they page you too? What's happening?"

"Relax, John -- _I_ paged you."

Relief floods out the adrenaline; he shifts his stance to keep his balance. "You did? Why?"

"What do you mean, why? What else was I to do?" Crossing her arms, she gives him an exasperated look. "You wandered away."

"Sorry, _Mom_. Didn't realise I had to be holding your hand the whole time."

"A simple 'I'm going to go look at this' would have sufficed."

"Oh, you mean like when I said, 'we're going to go look at the books', and you said, 'uh huh'?"

She frowns. "You never said that."

"I definitely said that. _You_ just weren't listening."

"Well if I wasn't listening, why didn't you tell me again?"

He gives her the _you're crazy_ look he used to reserve for McKay when he'd say or do something completely insane. "Why would I tell you again if I thought you were listening the first time?"

"So this is my fault? You walk away, and _I'm_ to blame? Why didn't you answer your cell?"

"Don't have it on me -- must have left in the car." He shrugs the bag strap higher onto his shoulder. "Why didn't you just come and find us?"

"I did -- I looked for you in toys and sporting goods and --"

"Two whole departments? Wow -- you're a regular coon dog."

The look she gives him is the one _she_ used to reserve for McKay. "Really. You think calling me a dog is your best move right now."

His best move right now would probably be to _stop talking_ but ever since he gave up an uninterrupted six hours of sleep a night, his willpower's been all but shot to hell. "Comparing, not calling, and you're the one --"

" _John_ \--"

He matches her irritated tone easily. " _Elizabeth_."

Isabelle stirs in the Snugli strapped across his chest, whimpering in her sleep, and Elizabeth shifts closer to his side, raising her hand and stroking her fingers across Isabelle's temple, soothing her.

Patting the back of the Snugli, he breathes in, breathes out, and decides he's already won as much of this ridiculous argument as she's going to let him. "You're not a dog."

She looks up and quirks an eyebrow at him. "Is that an apology?"

He smiles. "If you need it to be."

Irritation flashes across her face and he watches her take a deep breath, forcing it away. "You're an ass."

He shrugs. "You're the one who came back to me." Three years ago next month, to be exact. One minute he'd been watching the game, the next he'd been opening his front door for a ghost. Best moment of his life.

"Hmm." Slipping the diaper bag off his shoulder and onto her own, she takes his hand. "Let's go home."

He looks for a shopping bag and frowns when he doesn't see one. "Without buying anything?"

"They didn't have what I wanted."

"We didn't _just_ come here for baby clothes, you know."

"You maybe didn't." Tugging on his hand, she turns towards the exit. "C'mon."

He stands his ground. "I found some books --"

She rolls her eyes. "Isabelle has enough books."

"This coming from the woman who's turned the den into a library?"

"She's not even four months old, John. She wouldn't care if you read her Penthouse, let alone the same picture book more than once."

His gasp of shock is deliberately over the top. "You want our daughter reading _Penthouse_?"

"Well, I don't want her looking at the pictures, that's for sure."

"She's twelve weeks old, Elizabeth. The only thing she's gonna think when she sees a picture of naked breasts is 'mmm, _lunch_ '."

She makes a face. "You're disgusting."

"Hey, you're the one suggesting I read a skin mag to our daughter."

"Example, not a suggestion, and I'm retracting it. Permanently."

"You're taking it back? You can't take it back. There are no take backs."

"So you calling me a dog..."

"Completely taken back. You're right." He brings the hand holding hers up to his lips and brushes a quick kiss over her knuckles.

"I'm always right," she agrees, a small smile appearing. Looking over her shoulder at the exit, she sighs a little. " _Fine_." Turning back, she points at him with her free hand. "One book."

Smiling, he starts walking, following her back into the store proper. "Three."

" _One_." She glances a look at him. "And it can't have anything to do with lemons."

"Those are her favourites!"

"Twelve weeks, John, twelve. Let's wait until she's at least a year old before we teach her how to torment Rodney. Okay?"

He grins. "Promise?"

  


* * *

The End

**Author's Note:**

> ALT URL: https://anr.livejournal.com/564530.html


End file.
